


the more I see, the less I know

by orphan_account



Category: The Social Network (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, College, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2020-12-17 02:43:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21046994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Eduardo has mostly kept some distance from humans for the past 211 years. Then he meets Mark.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> From [this prompt](https://tsnkinks.dreamwidth.org/1679.html?thread=2959#cmt2959) found at the [2019 TSN kinkmeme](https://tsnkinks.dreamwidth.org/)

What Eduardo liked best about Harvard was that it never really changed. 

Maybe that was why he kept returning to it, over and over again. He knew that it was risky, that each time he started a fresh cycle of matriculation, he risked drawing suspicion to himself, maybe even getting caught. He was careful, of course. He’d spent his whole life being careful, which was more than he could say for some of his cousins. He always kept several decades in between his years at the school, to minimize his chances of being remembered. But there were still some old photographs floating around the school (he could in fact show up in those, he wasn’t really sure where that particular myth had popped up from), and there were long-standing professors who could have very sharp memories. It’d have been better to stay away, or to at least limit his time there to once a century or so. 

But he couldn’t really help himself. He didn’t allow himself many indulgences, but Harvard was one of them. It comforted him to walk along the familiar cobblestones and red brick buildings. He’d walked past Massachusetts Hall, a building older than he was, countless times over the decades and he liked that it had never changed. The world seemed to be spinning faster since they’d hit the 21st century, and as his father loved to point out, Eduardo did have a sentimental side, and he appreciated Harvard’s traditions. 

That wasn’t to say that the experience was perfect. He knew that he had a tendency to romanticize the college experience, especially after many years had passed in between, and once he got back to school, some of the less pleasant parts came flooding back quickly. It was getting a little more difficult to take classes that were completely new. He’d signed up for a few history classes this semester, figuring that it would be interesting to see modern people’s perspectives on what he’d lived through, but it was mostly just boring to read about what he already knew. 

Not to mention that the errors bothered him. Like so many nights before, Eduardo found himself inside on a brisk April evening, scribbling in the margins of nearly every book he’d read. When he pressed down so forcefully that the pencil tip broke, (“First cases of yellow fever in JULY 1793, not August”-- he should know, he had been dying of it just before he was turned, and that had been just before the Independence Day celebration) that’s when he figured it was time to take a break. As a vampire, he didn’t exactly have to worry about stress raising his blood pressure, but still, pencil abuse wasn’t necessary. 

The computer was usually good for that. The Internet had been around for at least a decade or so, so the novelty really should have worn off by now, but Eduardo was still finding it fascinating-- even if his knowledge of technology wasn’t exactly advanced. In his defense, he thought he was doing pretty well for a guy who came of age in the late 1700s. It had taken his father years to even turn a computer on (he’d been very concerned about witchcraft). His interest had only grown since TheFacebook launched. Eduardo had always enjoyed how the Internet could connect him to information that would otherwise take him hours to find or read, but this was the first time he’d really understood how the Internet would connect him to people. For obvious reasons, he’d always felt pretty set apart from the people around him. It was one thing to be friendly with someone, and he was rarely lacking in options if he did want to go out for a drink or even a date. Just. That was different, wasn’t it, than actually having a close friend. Or more than a friend. Something real. 

This was just his sentimentalism kicking in again. People-- creatures like him didn’t get to have those kinds of relationships. That was the sort of privilege he’d lost a long time ago. 

He logged into his account, trying to shake off his maudlin mood. Clicking around, he started scrolling through aimlessly until something caught his eye. It was a post with four paintings that he recognized; they were all by artists they’d been studying in his Postwar and Contemporary Art class. The poster, Elliot Moskovitz, had put them up with the vague question of “Which painting was most influential?” It had to be someone from his class, right? Except that the class wasn’t all that big, and Eduardo didn’t recognize the name. He didn’t recognize the guy from his profile picture either-- and he seemed like the kind of guy that would’ve stuck out to Eduardo. He was… kind of incredibly cute. Maybe not conventionally so, but definitely Eduardo’s type. He was pale, which Eduardo was sort of predisposed to like, as someone who had spent a great deal of time around pale people (although he’d always been glad that his skin had mostly retained its deeper color from Brazil. Any deviations from stereotypes helped keep him safer). Sandy brown curls, the kind that he could just imagine sinking his fingers into. Blue eyes. He’d always liked blue eyes. So he definitely would’ve stood out in class. Coincidence, maybe? A Harvard student who’d taken the class before? 

Half these comments were complete nonsense-- one of them was arguing Rauschenberg was a champion of abstract expressionism, when anybody who knew anything about Rauschenberg knew that the artist explicitly rejected that particular artistic movement. Eduardo tried to limit his comments to just a few sentences, but the next thing he knew, he’d written a little over two paragraphs. He hesitated before posting it but hey, the guy had asked for opinions, hadn’t he? 

That probably should’ve been the end of it. And maybe it would’ve been, if he’d been paying less attention in class two weeks later.


	2. Chapter 2

The guy definitely hadn’t been in class last week. Or for weeks before that. Like most vampires, Eduardo had an unusually sharp memory, so he was sure about that. But what was even more notable was that it was Elliot from TheFacebook (or, no, they’d dropped the The for some reason, it was just Facebook now). He was sure of it— he definitely hadn’t forgotten that face. And Elliot had a pretty typical college kid look to him— dark circles like he hadn’t slept in a week, grungy sweatpants and GAP hoodie that had seen better days, hair in desperate need of cutting. Eduardo was unsurprisingly old-fashioned when it came to his clothes. Not just because it was how he’d been raised, but because the long sleeves of a suit and trousers protected him from direct sunlight (which wouldn’t, contrary to myths, kill him, but would give him an extremely unpleasant burn if he was out in it for more than an hour). Maybe that was why Elliot’s sort of look was appealing to him. Opposites attract and all that. 

If there hadn’t been a seat open next to him, then Elliot would’ve remained as no more than eye candy. But with Elliot sitting right next to him, he quickly learned a few things once their papers were handed back with their grades. 

He had better eyesight than humans and he was curious, so he didn’t think twice at sneaking some glances over at Elliot’s paper. First of all, Elliot’s name wasn’t Elliot Moskovitz. It was Mark Zuckerberg. Eduardo recognized that name— he was sitting right next to the creator of Facebook. 

And the other thing he recognized was the title of the paper. The title that was taken from the comment he’d left on the post about the paintings. Eduardo read it twice, even discreetly pulled up the Facebook page on his laptop. It was pretty obviously based off of the argument he’d put forth in the comment. What the fuck? The creator of Facebook was cheating on his final exam— by using Facebook? Not exactly what he thought the website was there for. 

The weirdest part was that he didn’t feel pissed off by any of it. Maybe the fact that he’d graduated from at least a dozen different colleges (and in another year, it’d be his fourth time from Harvard itself) made grades a lot less important than they’d seemed a century ago.

So maybe that was why after class, he found himself calling out in the hallway, “Uh— Mark? Mark Zuckerberg, right?” 

The guy turned, his expression blank. “Yeah?” 

Eduardo realized that maybe he should’ve planned out what he actually wanted to say before stopping this stranger. “Well. Uh. You… also go by Elliot, right? You posted on your website, on Facebook about those paintings, and I commented, which you obviously read.” He gave a significant look to the graded paper, which had been carelessly shoved in his closed laptop.

Mark’s eyes narrowed, his chin tilting up like he was ready for a fight. “If you know anything about Facebook, you know that it’s an incredibly intricate and time-consuming venture that requires a lot more prioritizing than a class that has no connection to my company. A company which is currently in its earliest stages and has yet to generate any revenue. So if this is some sort of misguided blackmail attempt, then you should consider that there isn’t any money to—“ 

“Okay, Jesus, no,” Eduardo said hastily, before Mark’s conspiracy theory could develop further. “I wasn’t trying to blackmail you, dude, I was just— I knew that you were the guy who created Facebook and when I realized you’d, you know, borrowed the art stuff I posted, it just made me…” He didn’t know what the right word was. “Curious,” he finished weakly. 

“Curious,” Mark repeated, his voice flat. 

“Yeah. So,” Eduardo said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “Even if your company’s broke, you can at least get a cup of coffee with me and explain how Harvard’s biggest tech sensation ended up in a Postwar Art class that he hates. Least you can do for borrowing my intellectual property.” 

“You didn’t put any copyright or patents on the post so you’d have a hard time arguing that it was legally recognized intellectual property,” Mark said. His voice was still flat but there was something behind his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Like he was assessing Eduardo. 

The pause went on long enough that Eduardo was about to hastily cut his losses and leave. But just before he could, Mark gave a jerky nod. “Okay. Fine. But you’re buying. It was your idea, and every spare $5 I have should be going towards my next server purchase.” 

For an idea he’d heard his mouth saying before his brain realized what was happening, Eduardo was happier than he could’ve expected at the agreement. “Yeah, okay. Of course. My treat.” 

And for once, when he walked out of the building and into the quad, he had someone walking next to him.


	3. Chapter 3

So, the thing was, Eduardo had never been that great at thinking ahead. For example, when his neighbor, the one everyone on his street whispered about, had showed up by his sickbed and asked him if he wanted to be forever young and healthy, he probably should have asked what the hell she was talking about instead of just saying yes. And now that he was a vampire, thinking ahead and strategizing was even more important, because a stupid vampire was a dead one. So Eduardo tried, he really did, to keep a leash on some of his more impulsive behaviors. Most years he was pretty good at that. 

There was no reason why Mark Zuckerberg, a guy that Eduardo didn’t know anything about other than he was good with computers and bad with school-related ethics, should have broken through so easily. And yet here he was, at a crowded coffee shop a block or so off campus, with this stranger. 

Mark was staring down at his coffee cup, frowning slightly, like he’d never seen coffee before and wasn’t exactly sure what it was. Eduardo half-wanted to say something like sorry, I have no clue why I invited you here, I’m not actually that good at talking to people unless it’s about something shallow and stupid. But then he’d have sounded like an insane person, so instead he hesitantly said, “So what’s next for Facebook?” 

It was like flipping a switch. Mark sat up, like someone had yanked at a string attached to his head, and started talking faster than Eduardo thought humans were capable of. He was only picking up on about half of what Mark was saying-- the stuff about expansion and the need for more servers and programmers made sense, the more technical parts went completely over his head. But he didn’t even mind that he couldn’t understand all of what Mark was saying. He’d never seen someone so animated before, so invested. For one moment, he found himself wondering what it would feel like to have that kind of single-minded focus on himself. 

Which was a stupid thing to think about. The last thing any vampire needed was attention from a human. 

Mark stopped a little abruptly, as though he’d remembered that it was considered polite to let other people speak. Eduardo didn’t care; he’d have let Mark gone on for another hour. 

“Anyway. That’s the six-month plan,” he said, fingers drumming against the side of his still-full coffee mug. “I’d like to be in Palo Alto within the year, but the company’s basically running off of credit cards and help from my parents and Dustin’s, so. Might take more than a year.” He shrugged jerkily, but Eduardo could tell it bothered him a lot more than he was trying to let on. Mark was hard to read, sure, but not impossible. 

“Well, it could happen a lot sooner than that if you had some VCs or other investors involved,” Eduardo pointed out. “Do you have any connections on campus?” 

Mark shrugged. “Before Facebook, I was mostly known as the guy who’d insulted every woman on campus, so no. Not really. Now that it’s launched and gotten popular, everybody’s happy to give me their congratulations, but those have yet to be recognized as legal currency, so.” 

Eduardo would’ve assumed that investors would be lining up, honestly. Mark was clearly a genius, and Facebook had basically exploded across campus. And not just theirs, either, Eduardo had heard that they were in something like 50 schools so far. 

“If you’re looking for investors, I’m definitely interested,” he offered. 

Mark blinked. “You-- what?” 

“I’m interested,” Eduardo repeated. “We should go over some more details, but yeah. If you’re looking, I’d like to be a part of this.” 

“And that’s the kind of thing you do. Investing,” Mark said, flatly, clearly disbelieving. 

“I’m the president of the Investors Club, so yeah,” Eduardo said with a small shrug. “It is. I played around with the stock market last summer and did… pretty well for myself, so. I’ve been looking for something new to get into. We could start off with something smaller, like $20,000 or so.” He’d always had a good head for business, and over the years, he’d gotten a very good nest egg for himself. So why not? If he lost the investment, it was hardly going to break the bank for him. 

Mark’s eyes had gone round. Eduardo got the impression that he wasn’t surprised very often. “$20,000. That’s starting small for you.” Eduardo gave a small shrug. He didn’t really like bragging about his money, but yeah, it was. 

“You don’t even know me,” Mark pointed out. “Why would you-- You don’t know me at all. And you should be pissed at me. I used your ideas for the final. Most people would be threatening to report me to the dean or something.”

“I know that Facebook is a seriously smart idea, and that I’d be an idiot to pass up a good opportunity because of an art paper that doesn’t mean that much to me in the long run.” When you’d gone through college dozens of times, then you didn’t tend to get worked up about things like that. 

There was a pause. “You’re pretty weird, Eduardo,” Mark said, but with the way his mouth was curved up in a half-smile and the tone of his voice, it sounded more like a compliment than anything else.


	4. Chapter 4

Somehow, coffee turned into them walking back to campus for dinner, which turned into beers back at Eduardo’s dorm. Before he could think much about it, it was past midnight, and Mark was half an hour into the most passionate tirade against Attack of the Clones that Eduardo had ever heard, with no signs of slowing down anytime soon. Eduardo’s chest ached a little from laughing. Mark wandered out around two (Eduardo asked him to text when he got back to his dorm, which earned him an eye roll and a quip about how he wasn’t going to get lost walking across the Quad. Eduardo couldn’t help it. Humans were just so-- fragile. Breakable. He didn’t want Mark to break), with an agreement that they’d meet up over the weekend to talk about Facebook and Eduardo’s investment. 

Except the weird thing was, Mark turned up two days later to their next Postwar Art class, sitting next to Eduardo. And it wasn’t like last time, where there’d been a major essay to pass back, it was just a normal class. Eduardo teased him after, asking why he’d decided to bless them all with his presence. Mark shrugged a little, eyes fixed over Eduardo’s shoulder instead of meeting his gaze, and started talking about something called the Wall instead. 

It turned into a pattern after that. Mark stopped skipping the class. It probably was a good thing that Eduardo didn’t care as much about grades anymore, because his focus on the class had taken a very sharp drop. Mark had a new chat feature for Facebook that he was testing out, which he’d gotten Eduardo roped into, and when he wasn’t coding through the class, he was messaging Eduardo with scathing commentary on the teacher and their fellow classmates. After class, they’d wander around campus until it was time to get dinner, then head back to one of their dorms to talk about Facebook. At least, it started off as talking about Facebook. By the second beer, they’d usually drifted to another topic of conversation. It was strange, how quickly it felt normal to him. Like there’d been a Mark-shaped gap in his life for a long time and things had finally clicked into place. 

It was just one of their normal nights at first. Mark had been monologuing about Java vs Python for awhile now, with Eduardo interrupting as devil’s advocate now and then (he didn’t actually have an opinion and was only following about a quarter of the tech jargon; he just thought that Mark was cute when he got worked up). Mark’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it out of his khakis, looking a little annoyed when he read the text. 

“This is the third time my mom’s texted me a reminder about coming home this weekend for my sister’s dance recital,” he said, punching back a quick reply. “It’s like she thinks I’ve got a head injury. I told her, as long as my sisters don’t bug me when I’m trying to code, I’ll suffer through an hour of middle schoolers hopping around a stage.” He frowned a little. “You don’t think it could be longer than an hour, do you?” 

“Two at most,” Eduardo said, which didn’t make the frown go away. “How many do you have? Sisters, I mean, not dance recitals.” 

“Three. Which is two more than I’d prefer,” Mark said, although he had the same hint of fondness in his voice that he’d have when he criticized Eduardo’s ideas on the best way to expand Facebook’s audience, so Eduardo didn’t really buy that. 

“It can’t be all that bad, having a big family. I wouldn’t mind it,” Eduardo said, a little wistful. He only had his father and mother. And they weren’t his biological parents, of course. He’d been on his own for a few decades back in Brazil after being turned, and when Elena had met him and recognized him as one of her own, she and her husband had taken him in (very reluctantly, in Vitor’s case). Calling Eduardo their son had been the smartest cover story, and after the first hundred years together, it felt something like the truth. 

When he looked back at Mark, Mark’s stare had gotten sharper. “You don’t talk about your family,” he pointed out. He didn’t phrase it like a question, but Eduardo knew that it was. 

“My family…” Eduardo started, picking at the label of his beer bottle, feeling the damp paper start to crumble. He wasn’t sure how much of the truth to actually tell. He’d always spoke of the Saverins as if they were his biological family, the ones he’d spent his whole life with. It was safer that way. It was normal; it helped him blend in. And after a couple centuries, the lying felt pretty easy. It had been a very long time since he’d had someone who he didn’t want to lie to. 

“They died,” he said finally. “It was a long time ago, I was younger. And I’ve had a foster family for awhile now, so, you know, it’s okay.” 

It had happened so quickly. When his mother had taken sick, it hadn’t seemed very serious. The fever wasn’t too high, and she was in good spirits, even letting his little brother and sister curl up with her in bed as she read them stories. But five days later, she was delirious from the spiked fever, soaking the bed through with sweat. Her skin had turned a sickly yellow, like lace that hadn’t been properly cared for. By evening, she was gone. And by that point, the little ones were sick too, and Eduardo didn’t dare let them out of bed, even to say goodbye to their mother. He should have. It wouldn’t have made a difference. They didn’t even last two days. And then Eduardo was alone. Years before that, when his father died just a few months after the twins were born, Eduardo had promised his mother that he would take care of them all. And he’d lost them within the span of a week. Failed them. Decades later, he would learn that the disease was spread by mosquitoes, which made it even worse-- he’d promised to take care of his family and he couldn’t even protect them from something as small as a bug. A fucking bug. He should have just let nature take its course, when he fell sick after them. He should never have allowed himself to be bitten and turned. He should have gone with them. He should have-- 

“Wardo,” Mark said, firmer than usual. Eduardo startled a little, looked over at him. “It’s not okay. I’m not-- I’m your friend, I’m not expecting you to be cheery about losing your family. You-- don’t always have to be okay.” 

Eduardo opened his mouth, closed it when he wasn’t sure that he could speak with a steady voice. HIs father, the one he had now, was always telling him to keep his emotions under control. That any weakness was dangerous. Eduardo knew it came from a place of protection, that there were people out there who knew of vampires, who hunted them. But still. It didn’t make it easier to have someone constantly pointing out his flaws. It was… Well. It was nicer than he could’ve imagined, having someone like Mark tell him otherwise. 

“You called me Wardo,” he said quietly. 

Mark looked a little embarrassed, although Eduardo wasn’t really sure why. “Eduardo’s a long name,” he mumbled. 

“No, I like it,” he assured Mark quickly. “Really. I like it a lot.” 

The embarrassment gave way to a small, almost shy smile. “Okay. Good.” Mark had dimples. How had Eduardo never realized that he had dimples? 

The conversation turned to something else, but for the rest of the night, all that Eduardo could think about was that he was glad he didn’t have a heartbeat anymore. He was afraid that if he did, it’d be beating so loud and so fast that even Mark could hear it.


	5. Chapter 5

The crush was pretty fucking inconvenient, if he was going to be honest about it. 

He’d never thought he’d have any sort of-- anything with a human. What would be the point? He couldn’t tell the truth, and what kind of relationship was it if you were just lying to the person you loved? He probably should have realized that a close friendship with a human wouldn’t really be that much easier. But it wasn’t like he’d gone out and planned this thing with Mark. Mark just… He crept up on Eduardo. 

The complications built up quickly. He was lucky that Mark basically never wanted to go outside, because if Eduardo got more than an hour or so in the direct sunlight, his skin would start to burn-- and not the kind of gentle sunburn that humans got, more of the blistering and peeling variety. But there were other things that were getting difficult. He’d bug Mark to eat (he’d sort of forgotten over the years what a balanced diet looked like for humans, so he looked it up and confirmed that Mark’s habits didn’t come close) but he couldn’t exactly do that and then not join him. So he’d eat too, even though food would give him a terrible stomach ache afterwards, painful cramps that would take ages to fade away. And of course, when he actually was hungry, he’d have to excuse himself pretty quickly. Otherwise, he’d find himself staring at the lines of Mark’s neck, honing his listening until he could hear the tempo of Mark’s pulse, and imagine what sort of noises Mark might make if he just leaned forward and sank his teeth into his neck-- gently, so gently, he wanted it to feel good for Mark-- or no, not his neck, maybe his thigh, where he could nip at the femoral artery, and the smell of Mark would be-- 

Well. The point was that he’d have to leave very quickly if the hunger snuck up on him. 

It was mostly manageable. Just-- this dumb crush. When he was alone, it was easy to convince himself that it was just something passing, and that probably the next time he saw Mark, he wouldn’t even feel anything. But then he’d actually see Mark, with his hair and and his eyes and his stupid dimples and that smile that he seemed to save just for Eduardo, and he felt lost all over again. 

It got worse the night that Mark came over to celebrate Facebook getting into its 50th school. 

He’d made sure to feed before Mark came over (pig’s blood was never quite satisfying enough, but it’d been the majority of his diet for decades and he had accepted it by now) so he didn’t have to worry about how to kick Mark out so he could eat. Mark brought over a six-pack, which they polished off pretty quickly (Eduardo considered himself lucky that drinking was much easier on his system than human food was) and moved onto whiskey. 

“I think we can be at 100 schools by the end of the summer,” Mark was saying emphatically. They’d wound up on Eduardo’s bed, sprawled lazily. Mark looked more relaxed than Eduardo had seen him in-- well, probably ever. “And maybe even another country. Maybe try for University of Toronto, or McGill.” 

“I bet you could go even bigger than that,” Eduardo said, nudging at Mark’s foot with his own. “Two continents, maybe. We’ve got to have some Harvard students abroad right now. We should start looking at Oxford or Cambridge.” 

“Two continents,” Mark echoed, looking a little startled at that. “I-- You really think so?” 

It was probably the first time Eduardo had ever heard Mark sound less than sure about something Facebook-related. “Of course I think so,” he said without hesitating. “What, are you kidding? Of course. You’re the smartest person I know, Mark. You can do anything. And you’ve got Dustin and Chris and… I mean, you have me, you know? I’m here. I’m here for you.” 

Mark was quiet for a moment, looking at Eduardo the same way he looked at Facebook’s code when it was giving him trouble, when he couldn’t quite work something out. Then, a look of determination went across his face. Before Eduardo could work out what the look was for, Mark was darting forward suddenly. For a wild moment, Eduardo thought that Mark was going to hit him-- he couldn’t work out what the alternative would be-- but then Mark’s mouth was on his, closed and a little off-center, but firm. 

Eduardo leaned in without thinking, hand going to Mark’s forearm, half to steady Mark, half because he couldn’t bear to not touch Mark right then. Mark pulled away after a moment, studying Eduardo’s face with the same intent focus. “I-- Mark,” Eduardo said helplessly. He’d meant to say more, but then one of them moved again, he wasn’t even sure who, and they were kissing again. Mark’s mouth opened against his, and Eduardo hadn’t ever thought that shitty beer could actually taste good on someone, and he wanted so much more, no wonder humans obsessed about this sort of thing constantly, because he wanted to kiss Mark until his mouth was sore, wanted to kiss down Mark’s neck and feel the pulse against his lips and slowly let his teeth come out and-- 

Eduardo broke away, and this time when Mark pressed back in for another kiss, he turned his head, shook it slightly. 

Mark frowned, barely moving back. “What?” he asked. When Eduardo shook his head again, he repeated with more emphasis, “Wardo, what?” 

“I just-- I can’t,” Eduardo said, aware of how weak it sounded. 

The frown looked more pronounced. “Did I-- I don’t think I misinterpreted this,” Mark said. 

The smart thing to say would be yes, sorry, but you really read this wrong. Eduardo wasn’t very smart tonight. “No, you didn’t, but I just can’t.” 

Mark’s annoyance was coming through quickly. “Of course you can. You just did. I--” Mark fidgeted a little here before spitting out, “I like you. And you said you also-- So there’s no problem here.” 

“I wish it was that easy,” Eduardo said, genuinely meaning it. 

“And I wish you would stop saying things that sound like lines from a soap opera,” Mark snapped. “What are you even talking about? Can you just explain instead of saying weird shit?” 

Eduardo had been around for a very long time, but this conversation was quickly making through the ranks as one of the worst things that had happened to him. “Look, I just, it’s really complicated.” Mark scoffed, looked away. “Mark, it is! I can’t really get into it, but I just can’t be in a… relationship, or anything. If I could, I’d be with you, yeah, but it just-- It can’t be that way.” 

This didn’t do anything to deter Mark. “So what, it’s your family? I don’t give a shit about hiding it from them, Wardo, I’m not asking for an invite to the High Holidays. I don’t care if things are private--” 

“Mark, I said I can’t because I seriously fucking can’t, okay?” Eduardo said, much sharper than he’d meant to. “Can you just listen to someone else for once?” 

He wished he could take back the words as soon as he saw the way Mark’s face shuttered close. Like Eduardo wasn’t Wardo to him anymore. Much quieter, he said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to--” 

“It’s fine,” Mark said briskly, getting to his feet. “It’s fine, whatever. I heard you. I should get back to work on Facebook.” 

Eduardo got up as well, wobbling. He could already feel the cold rush of panic going through him. “Wait, no, I really shouldn’t have--” 

“See you around,” Mark said shortly, turning away. The soft click of the door behind him was somehow worse than if he’d slammed it. 

And then Eduardo was as alone as he’d been for most of the past few centuries, and like he would be for the next few centuries ahead. Which was probably how it should be. A creature like him didn’t deserve a gift like Mark.


	6. Chapter 6

He held out for less than a day before he texted Mark, a profuse apology that he was a little embarrassed to think about for too long. Mark ignored it. He sent a follow up apology the next day. Mark ignored that too. When art class started the next day, Eduardo fiercely guarded the chair next to him, waiting for Mark to fill it. He had a whole speech planned out-- but it went to waste, because Mark didn’t show up. 

Eduardo told himself that it was for the best. That obviously there was no way that this thing with Mark was going to end well, so it was good that it had come to a stop now. He probably wouldn’t even think about this in another decade or so. Mark would probably fade into the now-faceless blur of humans who he’d interacted with over the years. 

He kept telling himself that, but that didn’t stop him from feeling like every day was the emotional equivalent of a truck running him over. 

He had resolved to delete Mark’s number. Actually delete it, not just pull up the contact, stare at it forlornly, hover over the delete button, and then put his phone away. Because he’d done that about five times already and it was just getting too pathetic for words. 

Then he got the bright idea to polish off the bottle of whiskey he’d started with Mark. As a vampire, he had a very high tolerance, but with enough liquor, even he could get drunk. And three-quarters of the bottle definitely counted as enough. 

He ended up watching one of the Indiana Jones movies, because the last time they’d hung out, Mark had mentioned how much he’d liked them growing up and apparently Eduardo had turned into some kind of glutton for emotional punishment. When he woke up the next morning, feeling much less miserably hungover than expected (he would be eternally grateful for his fast healing abilities), he was surprised to find a text from his phone-- from Mark. 

Apparently at some point during the movie, he’d texted _u were wrong, temple oof doom isnt thatbad._ And for some reason, this was the text that Mark had finally responded to. 

_Sure, if you’re really into watching endless scenes of human sacrifices, it’s Oscar material._

Eduardo read it three times before he could convince himself that it was real. Hesitantly, he texted back, some dumb joke about the voodoo doll plotline. Mark’s reply took forty minutes, way longer than Mark would usually take to respond to a text, but a late response was better than none at all. 

They texted back and forth sporadically for the next two days, until Eduardo finally got the courage to ask if Mark wanted to come over, talk about some marketing strategies for Facebook. And to his relief, Mark accepted, and showed up relatively on time the next night. 

“If the marketing you want to talk about is installing ads, I’m going to stop you right there,” Mark said, apparently all business as he got out his laptop. “The site isn’t ready for them. Right now, the coolness factor is the best thing that Facebook has going for it, and if we start putting in ads for cleaning supplies and two-for-one toothbrushes, then it’s going to look like our target audience is middle-aged women, not college kids.” 

“Uh, before we got started with Facebook stuff, I was hoping maybe we could clear--” 

He didn’t even get to finish. “No,” Mark said flatly. He wasn’t looking at Eduardo, staring instead at the laptop screen, even though it wasn’t doing anything more interesting than starting up. “We’re not getting into that.” 

“I just wanted to say--” 

“I got your texts and since my reading comprehension hasn’t suddenly dipped below kindergarten level, I know what you said. There isn’t any need to repeat it.” Eduardo opened his mouth to protest once more and Mark finally looked over at him, although there was no softness in his expression. “Wardo. There’s nothing to say about it. Okay? That’s just how it is.” 

Eduardo was scared that if he kept protesting, Mark would leave. And as selfish as he was, he didn’t think he could bear to go back to the bleakness of the past few days without him. “Okay,” he said meekly. “Okay. That’s fine. Um… If you’re against ads, then we should probably start talking about how to get other investors on board. We’ll need to generate revenue somehow.” 

Mark’s shoulders relaxed slightly. The rest of the night was tense, lacking the ease they’d had before but-- at least Mark was there, right? That was something. That had to be something. 

But the tenseness didn’t entirely go away, over the next few days, no matter how much Eduardo wanted it to. Mark never relaxed in the way that he used to around Eduardo, and for his own part, Eduardo didn’t think he was acting quite himself either. It was hard to do that when he kept replaying the kiss on a loop in his head (Mark had already caught him openly staring at his mouth once, which was probably up there in the most embarrassing moments of his abnormally long life). But at least they were still spending time together. At least Mark wasn’t gone entirely. 

Eduardo was definitely distracted-- which probably explained why he opened his mini fridge one day shortly after Mark coming by again, only to find it empty. There was a butcher in Boston who sold him his supply of pig’s blood without asking questions, and Eduardo went every other week, like clockwork. He was supposed to have gone last weekend, but with all the stuff happening with Mark, he’d forgotten completely. He should have gone as soon as he realized he was out, but he had Mark coming over that day and he didn’t want to cancel. There was an investors’ meeting the next day, and he’d already told Mark that he’d go and discuss opportunities for Facebook, so that was out too. 

By the time he got on the T to Boston the next evening, he knew he’d pushed his limits too far. It felt like he was moving through syrup; the atmosphere around him was heavy and thick. There was a buzzing in his head that made it hard to think. Just remembering what stop he was supposed to get off at took much longer than it should have. It was hard to think about anything other than the painfully gnawing hunger. Like someone had peeled him open, curled their hand around his stomach, and squeezed. 

It was worse when he got back to his dorm. It took him a full minute to unlock his door, because his hands were trembling too hard to do it faster. He didn’t even take off his coat or open the bag properly. He just let his fangs slide out, sank them into the plastic bag, and began to drink. 

It was only when he heard the click of the door opening behind him that he realized that for the first time, he’d forgotten to lock the door while he was feeding.


	7. Chapter 7

Eduardo had been twenty one for a very long time. Over two hundred years at this point. After all that time, of course he’d imagined plenty of worst case scenarios. And getting caught was about as bad as it could get. Getting caught meant, at best, having to run, having to leave behind whatever community they’d been settled into. At worst, it meant a stake through his chest. The long centuries of his life coming to a bloody, agonizing close. And even though worrying about it didn’t do any good, of course he’d pictured it. What would he do if a human came across him at the worst moment possible? He knew that he couldn’t bear to kill someone. So what would he do, what would he say?

Of course, every time that he’d imagined the scenario, the human’s face had always been blank, vague. He’d never imagined someone in particular. Never thought it would be someone he knew. 

Never thought it would be Mark. 

He dropped the bag, a startled, frightened reflex. He could feel the splash of blood across his shoes. By now, the door had softly clicked shut behind Mark, who was staring at Eduardo with pure shock. Neither of them moved. Eduardo didn’t think he could move if he tried, not even to wipe his mouth clean. His brain was hopping wildly from thought to thought. What excuses were there? That he was planning his Halloween costume half a year early? That he’d taken some sort of drug and was hallucinating? That he was really severely anemic? 

Oh, God. There was nothing. And this was Mark, right here, looking-- frightening. He’d scared Mark. Fuck, all this time he’d thought that the worst case would be getting staked, and he’d been so wrong. The worst thing he could do was scare Mark. 

“Don’t be afraid,” he blurted out, taking a few steps back from Mark. He clumsily swiped at his mouth, staining the sleeve of his dress shirt. “I know this must look-- insane, but I-- I won’t hurt you. I’d never hurt you.” 

“That looks like blood,” Mark said, sounding like someone had hit him in the gut. “That’s-- Wardo, what the fuck? Is that real blood? Why would you-- you were drinking that.” 

There was no lie he could tell that would be believable, was there? Maybe if he was talking to someone who could be easily manipulated, someone gullible. Those terms could not have applied less to Mark. 

“Yeah,” Eduardo answered, shoulders sagging, giving in. “Yeah. It’s real blood. Pig’s blood.”

“Why would you be drinking that?”

Eduardo opened his mouth, closed it again. How was he supposed to do this? How was he supposed to say any of it? “Because it’s… what I have to do. To… stay alive.” 

Mark shook his head, hard. “No, that’s-- you’re fucking with me. Is this-- because of the other day? You’re, what, messing with my head because of that?” 

“No! No,” Eduardo insisted. “Fuck, no. The other day happened because of this, not the other way around. I had to say no so you wouldn’t find out… I was scared that you’d realize... “ He made himself take a deep breath before saying it. “I knew we couldn’t start something because a human can’t be with a vampire.” 

The room was quiet. Then Mark shook his head, harder. “There’s no such thing as vampires, that’s not even possible. I don’t know why you’re saying this, but just stop, okay. Just-- stop.” 

“If I could stop this, I already would have, for you,” Eduardo said quietly. “It’s real. It’s been real for me for a really, really long time.” 

“Okay, so prove it. Anybody could drink-- that stuff, I could do it if I really wanted, it doesn’t actually prove that you’re some sort of mythological creature just because you’re--” Mark stopped very suddenly, jolting back, bumping into the dresser behind him. Eduardo had opened his mouth slightly, enough to let his fangs slide out. Mark stared, wordless, unblinking. Eduardo lifted his lip up slightly, enough that Mark could see how the teeth connected to the jaw. He let them slide back in a moment later. 

“I didn’t want you to know,” Eduardo said, breaking the silence. “I didn’t want anyone to know; no one’s found out for centuries.” 

“Centuries,” Mark said, his voice sounding smaller than Eduardo ever imagined it could. 

“I know you must be confused, but I can explain everything, really, I can answer anything you want, I can--” He stopped talking when he saw how Mark was shaking his head no. 

“I need to go. I need to get my head around this.”

“Mark, please.” He wasn’t even sure what he was asking for. For Mark to stay? For him to leave faster? 

“I have to go,” Mark repeated. 

This time when he left, Eduardo didn’t try to stop him.


	8. Chapter 8

After Mark walking in like that, after Eduardo being stupid enough and careless enough to let Mark walk in on him like that, Eduardo was sure that that was the end of all of it. He’d scared Mark. How the fuck could he forgive himself for that? Mark would obviously never want to see him again, and Eduardo couldn’t blame him for that. 

He didn’t tell his parents. He knew that he should have called them, immediately, so that Eduardo could go back to them, and they could figure out somewhere to go. Another country, most likely. They’d done it before, when neighbors had gotten too suspicious. His father would have blown a gasket to find out that a human was walking around with confirmation of what Eduardo was. But Eduardo couldn’t bring himself to do it. Maybe it was naive, but there was no part of him that believed Mark would expose him or get him hurt.

Besides, he was more than a little afraid that his father would come to Harvard and look for Mark, and he’d rather get staked than let Mark get hurt. 

The last thing he expected was for a couple days to pass and then to hear a knock on his door at three in the morning, drag himself out of bed, and find Mark standing there. 

“You don’t have early morning classes on Thursdays, you can sleep in tomorrow,” Mark said, pushing his way inside while Eduardo blinked stupidly at him. 

“Uh,” Eduardo said, trying to wake up and adjust to this turn of events. “Hi?” 

Mark didn’t acknowledge the greeting. “So you do actually sleep? You’re not just like, closing your eyes and faking it?” 

“Uh,” Eduardo repeated. “Well. Yeah? Yeah, I actually sleep. I don’t need as long as you do. I only need like four or five hours.” 

”I don’t need more than four hours”. 

“Yeah, you do, you just pretend like you don’t so you can get away with coding longer,” Eduardo said, starting to smile fondly before realizing how fucked the situation was, which made the smile disappear quickly. 

Mark was fidgeting with his hoodie strings, looking more discomforted than Eduardo had ever seen. “I’ve been trying to read stuff. But all the websites had conflicting information, or were full of romanticized garbage, or stuff that was obviously not true. Like the sunlight thing. We’ve been outside together, and you didn’t turn into dust or smoke.” 

“Yeah, that one got really over-exaggerated,” Eduardo said with a small shrug. “I can be outside for a short amount of time. Longer if it’s cloudy. Direct sunlight will hurt me if I’m out for more than half an hour or so.” 

Mark nodded, a small jerk of his chin. Then, with his movements as stiff as they could be, he crossed the room, and sat in Eduardo’s desk chair. 

“I had a bunch of questions,” he said, taking a very crumpled piece of folded notebook paper from his hoodie pocket. He rubbed his thumb over it, back and forth, but didn’t actually unfold it. “You said that you’d answer questions. Did you mean it?”

Eduardo wasn’t sure if he should take this as a good sign or not. “Yeah, yeah, of course. Whatever you want to know.” 

“Well, if the sunshine thing isn’t true, what else isn’t?” 

“I do have a reflection and I can be in sunlight,” Eduardo started. “Crosses are fine, I just don’t wear them because I was raised Jewish. I can go across running water. No clue about the holy water thing, it doesn’t get tossed around that much, but I’d guess that one’s made up too. Some things are true. It’s true that I don’t age, and that not much can kill me. Pretty much just something through my heart, cutting off my head, or starvation. Garlic is hard on my stomach, but all human food is, it makes me sick for a couple hours after eating it.” 

“Food makes you sick?” Mark repeated, frowning. “What? But I’ve seen you eat a whole bunch of times.” 

“Well, yeah, I couldn’t tell you to eat while I was refusing to join you, you seemed like you were a week away from scurvy when we met.” 

“But it _made you sick_.” 

“Only for a couple hours. And you needed to eat better. I googled what humans should be eating and you’re supposed to be getting two and a half cups of vegetables a day, and before I think you were getting negative five servings.” 

There was a pause. “Do you hurt people?” Mark asked, with the same kind of bluntness he’d gotten used to. “Because one of the commonalities is obviously the drinking blood thing. Often to the point of fatality. Except it’s— you. You just told me you’ve been making yourself sick because you were worried about me overdosing on Red Vines. The first time we got drunk together, you started rambling about how South America had gotten too much rain that month and the crops were going to flood and you were worried about how it would affect the farmers’ families. So I’m having trouble imagining you, I don’t know, stalking around at night and biting people’s throats out.” 

“Jesus, of course not,” Eduardo said, as fast as he could. “It’s pig’s blood, it’s always pig’s blood. From a butcher, not like… I’m not raiding farms or anything.”

“Obviously. We’ve established your concern about small farms,” Mark said, looking just slightly less tense, although still lightyears away from looking relaxed.

“I don’t feed from humans.” Eduardo made sure to look Mark in the eyes for that. “But I used to. When I was first turned. I thought it was okay because I always made sure to stop before it got too much. And they were fine after, so I thought, what’s the harm? Except…” He broke his gaze, looking at his hands instead. “There was someone. This guy, around my age. Or, well, the age that I was when I was turned. He was…I liked talking to him. We talked in this little tavern for hours. And then after… we were kissing, in this alley, and I started drinking from him. And it was… I mean, look, I know this sounds messed up, but it was different than what I’d had before. It was always good before but this was… I don’t know. So much more intense. I couldn’t stop. I knew that I was taking too much, I could hear his pulse slowing, but I couldn’t make myself stop.” He could still feel the hot wave of shame, as strong as if it had happened last week. “Then there was all this noise, people shouting— a fight broke out, I guess, in the street. The noise brought me out of it, and I stopped, but… he was so pale. I nearly killed him. A few more moments, and I would have. So. I haven’t had any human blood for… yeah, I guess the last century or so.” 

He couldn’t see Mark, but he could hear the slow exhale of breath. “Is that why you got so upset, when we kissed?” 

Eduardo clenched his jaw, gave a small nod. “I couldn’t ever forgive myself if I hurt you. Besides, it was bad enough to lie to you when we were just friends. Seemed even worse to lie to someone who’s more than that.” 

“But you said it’s been a century, right? Since you lost control or whatever?” 

“It’s still a risk. And I don’t want to risk you. Okay? Even if it’s a 1% chance. It’s still too high.” 

Mark looked at Eduardo like he was waiting for a nasty punch line. When nothing came, he said, “People don’t usually talk about me the way that you do. You know that, right?” 

“I think we just spent the last few minutes talking about how I’m pretty different than most people,” Eduardo pointed out. Then, softer: “Besides. If people don’t see you the same way, then they’re just wrong, okay? They’re stupid. You’re… It’s been awhile since I had a good thing. And I’m sorry that I lied, and freaked you out, and fucked things up.” 

Mark shifted a little in his seat. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be permanently fucked up, right?” 

“Uh. Sorry, what?” 

Mark started talking faster than usual, which was was really saying something for him. “So you lied, okay, but you had a good reason. People sometimes have to lie about things for reasons of self-preservation. You had no way of knowing how I’d react. Any logical person would guess I’d react badly. If you’d just sat me down and told me, I never would’ve believed you. Seeing you like that is pretty much the only thing that convinced me, and even then it took me half a day to be sure that it hadn’t been some kind of hallucination or a rapid onset of the flu. I had to borrow a thermometer from some girl down the hall; who even owns a thermometer?” 

Eduardo was rapidly feeling lost. “Mark—“ 

“So okay, whatever, you lied, it was the smart thing to do. And now you’ve explained and you have your own, I don’t know, vampiric moral code, which is just— of course you do, it’s _you_, and obviously you’ve done a good job of following it for the past hundred years— how old are you, anyway?— and so I don’t see why we can’t just start hanging out again. It’ll probably be better because you won’t be dealing with your illogical guilt complex.” 

Eduardo just stared at him. 

Mark didn’t seem deterred. “So do you want to watch a movie tonight?” 

“You want to watch a movie tonight. With me. A vampire.” 

“I want to watch a movie with my friend, who happens to also be a vampire. Is that really what you guys call yourselves?” 

“Mark, you get that I’m dangerous, right? That I could kill people?” 

Mark rolled his eyes, and it was genuinely difficult for Eduardo to not call him a brat. “So what? Like you’re the only one who could kill people? That’s not a unique trait. An 80-year-old with an antique rifle could kill people. An angry swan could kill people. You’re not special there.” 

“How many swans do you hang out with?” 

“The point is,” Mark plowed on. “You don’t want to hurt people and you’ve already showed decades of self control. And if I’d never found out, we’d still be friends as normal, right?” Mark’s expression turned smug at Eduardo’s loss for words. “So this doesn’t change anything.”

Eduardo sputtered a little before getting out, “So what, you want this? This is just… all fine for you?” 

Mark’s expression was stubborn. “It’s stupid to just stop hanging out because you’ve convinced yourself that you’re some kind of monster.” 

“Mark, they literally make monster movies about vampires.” 

“Oh, what, did I miss the one about the terrifying vampire who makes his friends drink water in between each beer? Come on, Wardo. You’ve made it pretty obvious that not hurting me is a high priority. What are we worried about here?” 

“I just— I don’t know, you’re making it all sound so simple! You get that I’ve never done this, right? I’ve never just been friends with someone who knew!” 

“Well, now you are, okay? So if you really want me to go, then go ahead and kick me out right now. Tell me to leave.” Eduardo opened his mouth, but nothing came out. “Seriously, Wardo, I’m waiting. If you really don’t want me around, now’s the time to make that clear.” 

He knew he couldn’t say it. Of course he fucking couldn’t. He let out a rush of breath instead. “... Shit, Mark. You drive me crazy sometimes.” 

“But you don’t want me to go,” Mark said, except this time, the question in his voice was more evident. 

“I— No. No, I don’t want that.” 

There was something undeniably relieved about Mark’s expression, and it made Eduardo want to do something very stupid. Like pull Mark close to him and find out what he smelled like. 

“Okay,” Mark said. “Okay. Good. So—tomorrow, right?” 

He was probably going to go to vampire hell for this, if there was such a thing. “Yeah. Yeah, tomorrow, but— Mark, did you walk here in just a hoodie? It’s still cold out, especially with no sun.” 

Mark’s mouth twitched. “I can really see why you were worried. What a ferocious terror you are—“ 

“Oh my god, shut up,” Eduardo huffed. “Just— here.” He grabbed one of his pillows and a blanket, bringing it on the floor and settling down. “You take the bed. You can walk back in the morning. Okay?” 

Instead of protesting, Mark just shrugged and got in. “Sure. Although, there’s room for both of us if we got—“ 

“_Mark._” 

“Just saying.” Eduardo could hear the small smile in Mark’s voice. “Night, Wardo.” 

“Goodnight, Mark.” 

Eduardo probably should’ve been thinking about the ways that this could go wrong, but instead, he listened carefully to the tempo of Mark’s breathing, until he followed him into sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Eduardo didn’t know what to expect in this new phase of his friendship with Mark, but his first guess was that Mark just wouldn’t mention it again. It would be something that they both ignored, pretended wasn’t happening. That was probably the only way that things would go back to normal, wasn’t it? So they’d just go back to talking about what they usually did, which was mostly Facebook with some random topics thrown in between. 

He should have known better than to come up with any kind of expectation when it came to Mark. He was pretty sure that Mark actively enjoyed flouting people’s expectations of him. 

Instead of never bringing it up again, Mark brought it up almost constantly when they were alone together. He seemed to have a million questions: What was life like back when he was growing up? (“Unsanitary.”) What did blood taste like? (“I don’t know, good? Don’t try it yourself.”) Could he see Eduardo’s fangs again? (“What the fuck, _no_, why do you have the self-preservation instincts of a toddler?”) 

“Am I really the first person you’ve told?” he asked one day when they were holed up in Mark’s room, with Mark working on redesigning Facebook’s masthead and Eduardo making sympathetic noises when Mark bitched about users’ privacy complaints. 

Eduardo set down the economics textbook; his homework was long done and he’d just been doodling in the margins at that point. “Of course you are. You said it yourself, it’s not a smart idea to go around telling people. Most people would either think I was crazy or be terrified of me. And every couple decades there’s rumors of a human or two trying to hunt us down. Which is stupid, most vampires I know only take blood from humans who allow them to, and live off of animal blood the rest of the time. Not many of us are dumb enough to leave a trail of bodies behind, get the cops thinking there’s some kind of bizarre serial killer in their neighborhood.” 

Mark had sat up very straight all of a sudden, his gaze intense on Eduardo. “You said ‘blood from humans who allow them to’,” he repeated. “So there _are_ vampires who tell humans about what they are?” 

“Yeah, some,” Eduardo said with a shrug. “I mean, I know a bunch who just go to some kind of goth club, find someone to take home, and then really make their evening. Humans who are drawn to the whole vampire thing, you know? The media’s really helped with that, there are a whole bunch of movies that have turned it into a whole, you know, sexy thing.” 

“So that’s all it is? One night stands?” 

“Well… for most people. I’ve heard of some exceptions.” 

“Like?” Mark prompted impatiently. 

Eduardo shifted uncomfortably. “Like, relationships. Humans and vampires who are… together. And the human lets their partner… you know, feed from them.” 

“And you’ve met couples like that?” 

“Every now and then, yeah.” 

Mark was quiet for a moment, except for the tap of a dart (where’d he even get a dart from?) against the surface of his desk. “What did it feel like? When you were bitten?” 

“Mark, I was dying of yellow fever. Everything felt really shitty at the time.” 

“Okay, fine, but what do you think it would feel like for a healthy human? Like, would it feel good for them?” 

Oh, Jesus. Eduardo didn’t like where this was going (except for the more vampiric part of him that he was desperately trying to ignore, because that part _really_ liked where this was going). “Mark,” he said warningly. 

“It’s just a question. If there are humans signing up for this willingly, it can’t feel awful, right?” 

“I’m not biting you.” 

“I don’t remember asking you to.” 

“Yeah, but that’s where this is going, isn’t it? You don’t expect me to believe that this is all just some completely hypothetical situation.”

Mark changed gears quickly. “That’s why you freaked out about us kissing, right? You were worried that you’d lose control and bite me or something. So doesn’t it solve the problem to get my permission for it?” 

“Remember that story I told you about how I nearly drained the last person I drank from?”

“That wouldn’t happen to us,” Mark said, and the confident tone to his voice made Eduardo want to grab him and shake some sense into him. 

“You don’t know that! Neither of us have any idea of whether I’d lose control or now. I haven’t fed from a human in ages. Who knows how I would react? Who knows how badly I could hurt you, or how it would feel for you, or whether--” 

He couldn’t finish the sentence, because Mark had gone from the computer to the bed, his legs pressed up against Eduardo, and was kissing him before Eduardo could really register what had happened. It wasn’t like their kisses before, soft and exploratory. He could feel Mark pressing into him, his mouth opening against Eduardo’s, more desperate than he thought Mark was capable of. Eduardo broke away, said in a strangled voice, “Mark--”, but Mark apparently had no intention of letting him speak. He just leaned back in, reaching for Eduardo, cupping his face with his hands (god, how many times had Eduardo stared at those hands?), resuming the kiss and deepening it. 

After a few long, blissful moments, it was Mark who pulled away this time. Not too far, though. He pressed his forehead against Eduardo’s, hands sliding down to rest on his shoulders. 

“We can have this,” he said, his voice low, insistent. “I want this, and you do too. Can you just stop being a stubborn idiot and help me figure it out, instead of just pretending we’re both fine with things the way they were?” 

Eduardo rested a hand on Mark’s waist. His skin felt so warm beneath his worn t-shirt. Eduardo had forgotten just how warm humans felt. “I’m trying to protect you.” 

“Yeah, you’ve said that, but I don’t understand why I’m supposed to be so scared of you. With that other guy, it took you by surprise, right? So you’d be more aware of it this time. That would help with control, wouldn’t it? And didn’t you just say the other day that the hunger was a lot stronger when you were younger?” Eduardo gave Mark a skeptical look, which didn’t seem to slow Mark down at all. “Look. Is there really any harm in just... trying something small? Like going on a date or something.”

“A date.” 

“Yeah. Simple. We pick a day. Go out to dinner. You pay, since you’ve been accumulating wealth for centuries. You insist on walking me home because you’re overprotective and kind of paranoid. We say goodnight. A date.” 

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever been so tempted by something. Mark must have been able to sense his hesitation, because he pressed on quickly. “And if something goes horribly wrong, then we’ll drop it, okay? And I’ll… I’ll bring like, pepper spray or a whistle or something in the incredibly unlikely event that you lose your mind and start attacking me. Like a back-up system.” 

It would have been a lot easier to say no to this over text. Because with Mark looking at him with more emotion that Eduardo had seen before on him, it was starting to feel really fucking impossible to say no. “.... This is seriously what you want?” 

Mark huffed in annoyance. “What, you think I’m getting in a guy’s lap every day of the week? Yes, Wardo, this is what I want.”

Eduardo bit down on his lip hard, out of nervous energy. Mark reached out and gently tapped at his bottom lip. “Quit that. You’ll hurt yourself,” he said softly. Eduardo let out a disbelieving breath. It had been a really long time since anyone had seriously cared if he hurt himself or not. 

He turned his head slightly so he could press a kiss to the inside of Mark’s wrist. His skin was so soft there. “One date. Okay? One. And then we’ll reassess.” 

Mark’s shoulders relaxed, and he smiled, wide enough that Eduardo could see his dimples. “Okay. Yeah. See? That wasn’t so hard.” 

They didn’t kiss again for the rest of the night, but Mark never ended up moving back to the chair. He didn’t go back to his coding either. They watched a movie together, and with Mark sitting that close to him, their legs brushing together every few minutes, Eduardo couldn’t have described the plot if his life depended on it.


	10. Chapter 10

Eduardo avoided vampire movies when he could. Watching characters, ones that were inspired by his kind, terrorize and murder humans just didn’t have a lot of appeal to him. But he hadn’t been able to completely avoid the genre, obviously, and when he had seen the films, it had always seemed strange to him how collected the vampires were. How suave. So different from him. None of them had ever been nervous to call their father for a weekly check-in, none of them had ever forgotten what the latest slang was in front of a group of confused college students, none of them had ever blanked on an excuse for why they couldn’t go outside.

Most importantly, none of them had been standing in front of their closet for a goddamn hour and fifteen minutes, trying to figure out what to wear on this date. 

He was being ridiculous. He knew that he was being ridiculous. This was Mark, for God’s sake. His wardrobe was mostly made up of clothes from his sophomore year of high school. He was pretty sure there was at least one or two shirts left over from when Mark was in eighth grade. Mark couldn’t possibly care less what Eduardo was wearing. Logically, he knew all that. But knowing that hadn’t stopped him from changing his button-down three different times. He finally settled on a blue button-down, because Facebook was blue and white so that meant Mark had to like it, right? 

It wasn’t like he’d never been with anyone. He’d gone on dates with other vampires in the past. But he’d never really felt nervous before them. Probably because no one had ever mattered like Mark did. 

He told himself a dozen times that it was all going to be fine, that the date was Mark’s idea, that that it was pretty unlikely that Mark would stop mid-date and decide that actually, he couldn’t stand Eduardo and never wanted to see him again. That still didn’t keep him calm on the walk over to Mark’s dorm. 

“You look really good,” he blurted out as soon as Mark opened the door for him. “I mean, you always look really good, but— yeah. It’s… extra really good today.” 

Mark rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth was lifted in a smile. “It’s a hoodie and shorts, Wardo. It’s what I wear everyday.” 

“Still. It’s nice.” Eduardo held out the plastic package he’d brought with him. “Here. I figured you wouldn’t want flowers, so I thought Red Vines would make a better gift instead.” 

Mark looked pleased as he took them. “Thanks. You know I didn’t get you a gift, right?” 

“Yeah, I know. I just… like to give you things.” 

Mark nudged his shoulder. “I like when you give me things.” Eduardo was pretty sure his smile was taking up most of his face, but he couldn’t help it. “Come on,” Mark continued. “You’re not taking me anywhere too fancy, are you?” 

He wasn’t. Eduardo had asked around and more than one person had said that the pub on the corner of Mt Auburn and Hillard had the best burgers in town. Mark ordered one with all the toppings, and Eduardo got beers for them both. One of the nice perks of Mark knowing what he was meant that he didn’t have to force down human food anymore. 

“This used to be a dry goods store, I think, back when I first got here,” Eduardo said, trying to remember. “Or maybe a cigar shop?” 

“When was that?” Mark asked. There was a small dot of ketchup on his cheek and Eduardo wished he was bold enough to lean across the table and kiss it off. 

“This was… the 1830s, I think? Maybe 40s?” Eduardo said, trying to remember. “Sometimes the years blur together for me a little.” 

“You must hate it,” Mark said with a frown. “Knowing so much about everything, way more than the other people around you, and not being able to have anyone listen to you.” 

Eduardo thought about what high school must have been like for Mark. What it would be like to be a genius and know that nobody was going to give you any recognition for it, that they’d just see you as a nerd. How many times had someone laughed behind Mark’s back, or worse, to his face? He knew Mark was talking more about himself than about Eduardo-- even though he didn’t think Mark realized that. “I have you,” he pointed out. “That’s enough for me.” 

Mark liked that. He could tell. Over the course of his long life, there’d been a few moments where he’d known he wouldn’t forget something, where he’d been absolutely sure that the passage of time wouldn’t make this one memory foggy the way so many others had become. The look on Mark’s face in that moment-- it would stick with him. He was sure. Long after Mark was-- 

No. He didn’t want to think about that. 

“Wardo?” Mark said hesitantly, touching Eduardo’s hand. His face must’ve done something weird. 

“Sorry,” Eduardo said, turning his hand so his palm was pressed against Mark’s. Mark interlocked their fingers. “Just-- lost in my head for a second.” 

Mark nodded, took another sip of his beer. Eduardo liked that he hadn’t let go yet, that he used his free hand to take the glass. “Are there parts of it you like?” he asked. “You usually talk about the bad stuff. Like things that you can’t do, reasons to be careful.” 

Eduardo thought about this for a moment. “I like seeing the changes,” he said after a moment. “How adaptable humans are. How they create so many new solutions to problems. I like to see how it all evolves: speech and clothing and literature and art. 

“Why do you always say ‘humans’ like that? Like we’re completely removed from you?” 

Eduardo blinked, bemused. “Uh. Because you are? I might look human, but I’m not. I don’t meet the biological requirements to be classified as one, not anymore.”

Mark shook his head a little. “I don’t really care what your genes are or whatever. You’re the most human of anyone I know, Wardo.” 

Eduardo’s throat closed, and it took a few moments before he could speak, changing the subject to Facebook’s recent expansion into the Pacific Northwest. Mark gave him a look, but allowed the switch. 

They walked home together in the warm spring air, close enough that their shoulders bumped into each other and their back of their hands would brush together. 

“What are you doing this summer?” Mark asked after a long stretch of comfortable silence. 

Eduardo shrugged. “Don’t know. I might get an internship or something. I won’t go back to school for awhile after graduating Harvard this time, and I know that I’ll want to get a job-- I don’t need the money, but it gets boring really fast to just sit around doing nothing. So an internship will help make that happen.” 

Mark was looking down at his shoes as though they had suddenly become very interesting to him. “Right. Well. I thought maybe you’d. I don’t know. Come to California with me.” 

Mark had mentioned a few times that he wanted to spend the summer in Palo Alto, that he was planning to use part of Eduardo’s investment for that, but this was the first time he’d mentioned any concrete plans. And it was definitely the first time he’d mentioned Eduardo being a part of them. “Uh. What?” Eduardo said, unable to come up with anything more articulate than that. 

Mark started talking quickly, nervously. “I know you’re probably thinking that it’s crazy for a vampire to go to a place known for being sunny, but Northern California will be a much better climate for you than if we were in LA or something. Plus I was looking for a house to rent and I think I found the right one for you. It’s perfect, it has a backyard with lots of trees. For shade. So you can sit under those if we’re outside. And it has blinds on all the windows, I double-checked with the owners. You’d be comfortable.” 

The fact that he’d somehow found someone who cared enough about him to find a vampire-friendly house was maybe one of the most unbelievable events in his life. “I…” Eduardo started to say, too overwhelming to actually finish. 

“It’s just a few blocks from Stanford’s campus, and it’s got a pool,” Mark continued. “Which obviously wouldn’t work for you during the day, but I thought we could swim at night. If you wanted. And if you know how to swim. You do, right? You’re like three hundred years old, you must have learned at some point.” 

“I’m two hundred and thirty one,” Eduardo corrected, mostly because it was the easiest thing to address. 

“Close enough. So you’ll come, right?” 

“I… Mark. We’ve been on just one date.”

“So? I don’t need to go on anymore to know that you should be out there. You’re good for the company, you help with the business end. And you’re… I like when you’re around. You should be out there with me.” His expression turned a little sour. “If you’re about to give me a long list of excuses, I’d rather you just said no.” 

Eduardo reached for Mark’s hand, and Mark let him take it, which seemed like a good sign. “I’m not saying that. I’m just saying… Everything went well tonight, yeah? So let’s… go on another date. And maybe after doing that for a little while, we can talk about California again? Make a decision?” This obviously wasn’t exactly what Mark wanted to hear, but he gave a small nod. 

They got to the door of Kirkland and Mark turned to face him. “So this was a good date, right?” 

Eduardo smiled. “Best I’ve ever been on.” 

“Good dates usually end with a kiss,” Mark said pointedly. 

His smile grew. “Subtle, Mark.” 

Mark shrugged, shameless. “Being subtle isn’t going to get me what I want.” He reached out, tugged at the front of Eduardo’s jacket. “Come here.” Eduardo let himself be pulled in for a sweet, lingering kiss. 

Even after they broke apart, they were still staying close, Mark’s hand still holding Eduardo’s jacket. He was starting to play with one of the buttons. “I know you’re supposed to wait three days or whatever before you plan the next date, but that’s stupid. Warren Buffet is giving a talk tomorrow. It sounds boring but you’ll probably love it. We should go. Get drinks after.” 

“Okay,” Eduardo said, feeling light inside. “Tomorrow.” He leaned in and kissed Mark again, because he couldn’t not. He was doing his best not to think too far ahead— but he knew that tomorrow was going to be good.


End file.
